


Note from the Inquisitorial Archives #9

by professorplum221



Series: Notes from the Inquisitorial Archives [9]
Category: Warhammer 40.000, Warhammer 40k (Novels) - Various Authors
Genre: F/M, Funny, Non-Explicit Sex, Power Imbalance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:26:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28993659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/professorplum221/pseuds/professorplum221
Summary: Amberley Vail questions the veracity of an unexpectedly personal passage of Jenit Sulla's autobiography
Relationships: (mentioned) - Relationship, Ciaphas Cain/Amberley Vail, Ciaphas Cain/Jenit Sulla
Series: Notes from the Inquisitorial Archives [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2043088
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	Note from the Inquisitorial Archives #9

_Archival note: The following document is one of Inquisitor's Vail's annotated excerpts of the autobiographical works of General Jenit Sulla, along the lines of several other passages she frequently inserted into Commissar Cain's memoirs to provide context and perspective. This one seems like it would have fit into Cain's account of the Valhallan 597th's defense of Nunquam Fundumentibus; however, it never actually made it into the version of that narrative which Vail circulated. Perhaps the annotations were intended less for public consumption and more for private amusement. Regardless, I leave the rest of the commentary on this document to Inquisitor Vail._

_\- Underscribe P. Plumb, 137.M42_

* * *

_Editorial note: On undertaking the arduous task of reading the several garrulous tomes that make up General Sulla's body of work, I was initially surprised to find that in between all the laborious descriptions of each individual battle of her career, there's also a fair amount of frankly explicit content regarding the general's personal life. The fact that I've never heard anyone else comment on these sections of the books before seems to support a theory of mine that no one else has ever actually read them in their entirety. I myself had begun to mostly ignore them, seeing as they somehow manage to be even more gratuitous than the rest of the text, but found my eye nonetheless drawn to the following excerpt, which depicts an alleged sexual encounter between Sulla and Commissar Cain. Readers seeking further detail about the relationship between these comrades in arms may therefore find it illuminating; however, I must caution that, much like some of the writings of Cain himself, I find the veracity of Sulla's claims somewhat questionable._

_To clarify for those members of my audience who are prone to insinuations about my personal relationship with the subject of my editorial work, it's not that I would take umbrage at the mere discovery of the commissar spending a night with another woman. The terms of the arrangement we had certainly wouldn't have precluded that. Rather, I find it unlikely by this point in his career that he would have so brazenly shirked both Imperial Guard regulations and good sense as to become sexually involved with someone under his authority—_ especially _the then-captain Sulla, about whom his own writing only ever expresses annoyance (and perhaps occasional begrudging respect). Furthermore, given the period during which this poor decision of his was allegedly made, I_ might _have expected him to at least mention it when I saw him only a few days later._

_I therefore urge anyone who chooses to put themselves through the ordeal of reading the following passage to take it with a grain of salt, and keep in mind that if the events it describes really did take place, Cain's perspective on them would likely be markedly different from Sulla's._

\- _Amberley Vail, Ordo Xenos_

From _Like a Phoenix on the Wing: the Early Campaigns and Glorious Victories of the Valhallan 597th_ by General Jenit Sulla (retired), 101.M42.

If I have any regrets about my glorious years with the Valhallan 597th—aside from the tragic but inevitable losses of some of my brothers and sisters in arms—they are surely that I took so few opportunities to speak personally with Commissar Ciaphas Cain. While I am certain that all the men and women under my command felt his galvanizing presence in the regiment as keenly as I did, he was often confined to inspiring us from a distance, as he was no doubt frequently far too busy with the many other demands on his time that suited a heroic commissar of his nature to be able to socialize with the troops [1]. Outside of the triumphant victories in which he lent the First Company his aid, therefore, we rarely found a moment to exchange more than a few words—something I fervently wished to remedy. So naturally, I felt my spirits rise when, upon slipping into the unpopulated mess hall in search of a midnight snack during one of the nights we spent in the city of Underice, I spotted the commissar sitting alone in a darkened corner with a mug of tanna at his elbow.

He seemed engrossed in reading something on a data-slate, and I was impressed that, so soon after his single-handed defeat of a tyranid mawloc during the civilian evacuation that had brought us here, he was likely already refamiliarizing himself with recent action reports in preparation to go out into battle once more [2]. He was also still dressed in his full uniform despite the lateness of the hour, which made me feel slightly ashamed of my own rather more dishevelled appearance in the simple shift top and weather worn fatigue pants that I usually wore to sleep. But determined not to miss this rare chance regardless, I approached him quietly, waiting for him to look up from the data-slate of his own accord rather than venturing to interrupt.

"Ah. Captain Sulla," he greeted me with a slightly surprised smile. "Couldn't sleep either?"

"No, sir," I agreed. "I've been trying to take this time to relax, as you suggested, but it's hard not to keep worrying about the rest of the civilians still in Primadelving, and wondering what else we could be doing to protect them from the xenos if we could make our way back sooner."

He nodded, and said, "I feel the same way." I, of course, would have expected nothing less from such a noble and self-sacrificing hero, and was glad to find that we had concerns in common.

"Would you like a refill, sir?" I offered, noticing that the mug on the table was in fact almost empty. "I was just about to see if I could find a cup of tanna myself."

"That would be lovely," he replied. "Thank you, Sulla."

Positively beaming at the friendly manner with which he had addressed me, I took his empty mug into the dark kitchens and made haste at refreshing it, as well as procuring a matching beverage for myself. As distracted as I was by the commissar's presence, I had completely forgotten by this point that I had originally intended to find myself something to eat—which was just as well, considering that my hands were now full.

I was to be distracted even further when I returned to the mess hall—fortuitously empty besides the two of us—and delivered the commissar's drink, as in the moment that he took it from me, I discovered that he wasn't wearing his usual gloves. Knowing that he never quite got as accustomed to cold temperatures as I and the rest of my Valhallan brethren, I imagine that he might have taken them off in order to more effectively warm his fingers against the heated porcelain of the mug. But whatever his motivations were, the result was that our hands brushed together as he took it from me, and I was jolted into awareness of our physical proximity to each other—as well as of a unique characteristic of his hand that was usually hidden.

"May I ask you a question, sir?" I took a seat across from him, still blushing at the moment of unintended contact, but determined to fight through the nervousness his gaze instilled in me in order to forge more of a connection between us with what little time we had.

"You just did," he replied with a sardonic smile. "But you may also ask another one, if you insist."

I grinned, thrilled that he appeared to feel comfortable enough in my presence to engage in some friendly teasing [3]. "How did you get those two augmetic fingers?"

"In the medicae, while unconscious," he retorted immediately.

I giggled. "You know what I _meant_ , sir. How did you lose the real ones in the first place?"

He set his mug down and sighed seriously, and for a moment I feared that the question had been too personal before he began his response. "How much briefing did you receive about what we found in the caves on Simia Orichalcae?"

My thoughts drifted back almost ten years, to a campaign cut short by an unexpected discovery the commissar himself had made on a recon mission I hadn't been fortunate enough to share in [4]. "I was only told that there was something terrible down there, sir. A species of xenos far beyond what we had ever faced before."

"Pray that's all you ever need to know," he said with a grave expression. "I lost the fingers the first time I encountered those same beings, a few years earlier. And it was really only sheer dumb luck that I didn't lose anything else along with them."

"I'm sure that's not true, sir," I replied. "You must have been very brave." Having since ascended far enough in the ranks of the Guard to know what he was alluding to, I now have an even deeper appreciation of just how much.

"If you say so." He shrugged, demonstrating the characteristic modesty that had always made him even more admirable in my eyes, as well as those of everyone else he inspired throughout the years.

"Can you feel anything with the augmetics?" I asked, leaning across the table toward him.

"Not a thing. Which can sometimes be a blessing."

Tentatively, I reached out a hand to test the hypothesis. "You really can't tell if I touch them?"

"Not if I wasn't looking, no."

I had expected that he might draw away from my bold gesture, but he surprised me by remaining still, allowing me to rest my hand against the artificial part of his. As if to demonstrate the truth of his statement, he looked away from our hands and into my eyes, and I found myself gazing back with increasing ardour. I had never really been so close to him before, and I was struck with the handsomeness of his rough-hewn face, as well as with the amiability of his demeanour. I wondered how long it might be before I had a chance to look at him like this again.

Seizing the opportunity, I intertwined my fingers with his, and he raised his eyebrows.

"I can feel _that_ , you know," he said. "The other fingers are perfectly functional."

I blushed and gave him a demure smile. "I hope so, sir."

Then—my heart pounding even more than it had when the mawloc burst out of the ice—I leaned further across the table and kissed him. His warm lips were tinged with the bitter taste of the tanna, and they responded to mine in kind, filling me with elation and gratitude.

"Sulla," he whispered when we broke apart to draw breath, "wait five minutes before following me. Then take the first left after exiting the mess hall, and I'll be in the very last room on the right. Understand?"

"Yes, sir. Five minutes, first left, last room on the right."

By the time I replied, he was already on his way out. I counted the seconds as his darkly clad figure vanished into the darkness of the hallway, touched by his apparent concern for my reputation among the troops. I certainly wouldn't have wanted anyone to imagine that I was receiving special treatment because of a relationship with the commissar, which he no doubt understood and took into account when proposing such a discreet approach [5].

The minutes felt like hours, but I stood fast to the orders I had been given, and waited patiently until the appointed time before making my way through the silent corridors according to his directions. When I slipped into his room and locked the door behind me, I found him already partially out of his uniform, his hat and greatcoat hanging on a hook and the red sash that indicated his office folded neatly on the bedside table. Seeing him in the simple dress shirt and pants he had been wearing beneath it all made me feel even more like we could truly be equals for the night, and I was grateful to him for the gesture [6].

He beckoned for me to join him on the small bed, and I did so posthaste, eager to taste his lips once more. He slid his hands beneath my top almost immediately, and I followed his lead, rushing to undress him in order to run my fingers along the rippling muscles of his chest. They were even more impressive than I had imagined, and I found myself in awe of the amount of time he must have dedicated to combat training in order to develop them. Even in the middle of such an intimate moment, I was reminded of the strength and bravery with which he had inspired the men and women of the 597th on so many occasions, which only made me feel more honoured to have been selected as his partner for the evening.

Then I unfastened the buttons of his pants, and felt my jaw drop with surprise at the unparalleled dimensions of what awaited me underneath. "Sir," I gasped, "it's huge [7]. I barely know what to do with it."

"Well, Sulla," he replied with an arched eyebrow, "you're a very resourceful woman. I have every confidence you'll be able to handle it."

The statement raised my morale in the way that only a vote of confidence from a skilled commissar can, and gave me the determination I needed to continue even in the face of unprecedented hardship. It was no easy feat, as I would discover that attending to his needs required taking a series of poundings in several inventive positions [8]. Initially overwhelming pleasure soon mingled with increasing soreness and exhaustion as he thrust his mighty sword into me again and again. But with the same courage he had always instilled in me in battle, I was able to face it with a smile, and I felt my chest swell with pride in my accomplishments when he eventually finished directly onto it.

We had little time to spend together afterward, as he soon expressed concern for secrecy once more, and urged me to return to my own room before any early risers among the regiment might spot me. While I was sad to say goodbye so soon, I was thankful once more for his stoic pragmatism, and I thanked the Emperor as well for the fleeting hours we'd been able to share. I would never forget a single moment of the night I spent with Ciaphas Cain—and I was left with the distinct feeling that any woman (or man) who ever managed to to satisfy him on a regular basis must have been as brave and resolute a soul as the commissar himself [9].

* * *

_[1] Or he was just avoiding her._

_[2] Seeing as Cain frequently admits elsewhere in these memoirs to habitually skimming any official briefings he was ever given, I find Sulla's judgement of the situation to be a questionable one. It seems much more likely that whatever he was reading, it was simply for leisure. I also suspect that he might dispute her description of his defeat of the mawloc as "single-handed" as well, considering how much assistance he had from Jurgen and the rest of the soldiers present._

_[3] Alternatively, he felt annoyed enough in her presence to engage in some serious mockery._

_[4] Considering how many Valhallans were lost or permanently wounded on Cain's ill-fated excursion into the caves of Simia Orichalcae, I imagine he would argue that she was fortunate to have missed it._

_[5] On the contrary, I find it more likely that Cain was concerned about his own reputation, and the disciplinary measures he might face from the Commissariat if such an egregious breach in regulations as a sexual liaison with a member of his regiment was ever discovered. Either that, or he was simply seeking to avoid the social embarrassment of anyone knowing he had slept with Sulla. I myself would likely have teased him about it a great deal—which, if it ever really did happen, might be the reason he never told me._

_[6] Also probably not undertaken for Sulla's benefit, as I happen to know that Cain was incurably anxious about damaging the more important and symbolic parts of his uniform outside of the line of duty, especially if he anticipated having any difficulty explaining what exactly had happened to them in polite company._

_[7] I have to say that this description in particular strikes me as an example of exaggeration, flattery, or sheer fabrication. While the equipment in question may indeed have been a bit bigger than average—he was quite a tall man, after all—it was hardly sufficiently so to shock anyone with a modicum of experience (which Sulla purportedly had, if any of the earlier explicit scenes of the text are to be believed, not that I'd recommend anyone read them to find out)._

_[8] Here I must question the veracity of Sulla's description once more, as in all of our years together, I personally rarely found Cain to be a hard man to please. If anything, he could sometimes be a bit quick on the draw—although always willing to compensate in other areas, of course. Still, I suppose that doesn't necessarily invalidate the account entirely, as it could instead merely speak to a significant difference between Sulla and me._

_[9] Despite my many disputes with the details of this passage, I'll happily accept the compliment._


End file.
